Jump the Broomstick
by Timelesstides
Summary: One evening, several months after Mulder and Scully go on the run, the reality of their new lives is starting to wear on them. Following an honest conversation, they decide to take back some control and do something that makes them both laugh. Warning: story contains half a measure of pre-fluff angst, a sprinkling of mushiness and (hopefully) a dash of humor.


Disclaimer: I do not own The X Files. If I did, Scully and Mulder would have much more fun between whumpings!

Author's notes: A big Thank You must be said to my brilliant beta, nikki, for her work whipping my fic into shape. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Rating: PG-13ish

 **Jump** **the** **Broomstick**

Dressed in one of Mulder's t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts, Scully turned off the light in their tiny bathroom and padded quietly to her side of the bed. The night was steadfastly refusing to relinquish the residual heat of the day and it was draining the energy from both of them. Scully had excused herself an hour ago to submerge herself in a cool bath, leaving Mulder cursing while he put the pieces of a new fan together. Having succeeded, he had collapsed spread-eagled on top of their bed clad in only his shorts.

Scully didn't think she would ever get tired of the sight of his body, especially when it was displayed like this, almost as if he was offering it up to her on a silver platter. Head tilted, she silently contemplated him as she rubbed lotion into her arms, but the longer she watched him the more she felt that something wasn't quite right with him. Finally finished with her nightly rituals, she put her hands on her hips and spoke. "Mulder? Are you going to move over or have I been relegated to sleeping in the tub tonight?"

Sluggishly rolling his head to face her, he cracked one eyelid and peered up at her. "Sorry, Scully, I thought you were still…" Mulder gestured vaguely towards the bathroom. He shuffled over to his left making room for her then flopped down, his body going boneless again, and proceeded to stare sightlessly at the ceiling.

Sinking gratefully onto the bed, she sat facing him, one leg folded under her. "Mulder?"

"Hmm?" Was all the answer he gave without looking at her.

She placed a hand on his stomach. "Tell me what's wrong."

He covered her hand with his and began idly playing with her fingers while he organised his thoughts. Eventually he sighed and met her eyes. "I'd forgotten how exhausting it was to live like this." He let go of her hand to push himself up so he was reclining against the headboard and gave her a small sad smile. Scully remained quiet hoping he would keep talking if she gave him time. She wasn't disappointed.

"It was no picnic by any means, but I think during my incarceration I became accustomed to not having to keep checking over my shoulder every five minutes, wondering if it was time to move on again. It was a relief, actually, when they caught me; being able to stand still. Now, after the last six months of doing it all over again… I don't know Scully, I just feel… _tired_ , y'know?"

 _Oh Mulder, only you could find a way to reflect positively on that experience,_ Scully thought. _No it wasn't a picnic; they_ tortured _you. They stuck you in a dingy cell, deprived you of sleep so they could play their twisted mind games and they beat you. Then they had the audacity to set you up on false charges and put you on trial for your life._ The thought of all he had been subjected to made her want to weep.

Moving up the bed so she was next to him, she leaned over to touch his face, her fingers tracing lovingly over the stubbly skin of his jaw.

Technically, they had been a 'couple' for nearly two and a half years now, and before that there was an unspoken commitment, a devotion to each other - even if their relationship had been non-physical - for years more. But, his abduction, their separation and his arrest meant that the freedom to be together, being at liberty to simply touch one another - just as any other couple would do - to show the love they felt without fear of rejection - or worse, enemy reprisal - was still quite new.

Mulder closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into her caress, then after a moment guided her down so her head rested on his chest, tucked just under his chin. Scully let her body relax into his and draped her arm over his torso and they both sighed in contentment.

"You'd think after that first stint on the run, this time it would be easier, but if anything I think its worse," he lamented quietly.

Scully raised her head to see his face. "How so?" She asked.

His hand was in her hair, which she had lightened to almost blonde as well as continued to grow out. It hadn't particularly been any big deal for him with the women in his life before Scully, but he had always loved her hair, he'd never seen it so long as it was now and he was fascinated - then again, this was Scully and he loved every part of her. There were so many times over the years when he'd had to fight the urge not to run his fingers through it, tuck the few errant tresses that escaped her usually perfect coif back behind her ears or lean in even closer than he usually dared to, just to catch a hint of the intoxicating scent of her shampoo that encompassed her head like a halo.

At first, he had been concerned that her experience with Donnie Pfaster would make her feel uncomfortable if he seemed too taken with it, but she'd admitted to him that she loved the way it felt when he massaged her scalp when she was stressed and would happily spend entire evenings cuddled up to him, letting him twirl the long strands through his dexterous fingers while they watched TV, just as he did now.

He hadn't meant to bring up this subject; it was still so raw for both of them, but he wouldn't shy away from it or dismiss her question. Inhaling deeply, Mulder looked down into the brilliant blue pools of her eyes whose depths he would happily drown in and tried to explain what it had been like. "Well," he started tentatively, "when I had to leave you," he paused and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin of her forehead. "When I had to leave William," he bestowed another kiss, lingering longer this time, knowing she still felt the pain of separation as acutely as he did. He waited until he was sure his voice wouldn't break, and then pushed on, "at that time, I knew what I was working towards. After I got over the initial shock at how my life had changed and the searing misery of missing you both so much, I had a plan and I knew if I stuck to it I could achieve my goal. I could beat them, and eventually, I could have what I wanted; to go home to my family."

Scully let out a wavering breath as her grip around him tightened, wishing so badly that it could have turned out that way; it was all she had ever wanted too. "And now?"

"And now…" Mulder gently shook his head, not really knowing how to answer her. "Now, I feel like we're running blindly with no purpose or direction. There's no finish line, or if there is, it's so far away I can't even tell where it is. There won't be some satisfactory conclusion at the end of all this that will redress the balance against everything we've lost."

"You make it sound so bleak," she said, though a big part of her realised that it was probably true. She wondered how on earth their lives had turned out like this as she put her head back down on his chest, needing the reassurance of his solid form under her.

He returned to absently twisting her hair between his fingers and laid his cheek on the top of her head. "I know, I'm sorry. I know you're having to adjust to this 'alternative lifestyle', too."

"Don't worry about me," she told him, running her palm down the length of his arm to take his hand in hers. "Things may seem desperate sometimes, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"But I do worry about you, Scully. You shouldn't have to be living like a wanted criminal." An understandable note of bitterness had entered his voice.

"Please, Mulder, not this again." She squeezed him bodily, trying to _will_ him to understand her position. "I went into this with eyes wide open; I didn't expect things to be easy, so don't imagine I'm going to leave now because this isn't the life I wanted for us."

"But you don't have to live like this," he insisted, "it's not too late for you. Don't you get it, Scully? You could go home."

"No!" Scully exclaimed loudly, pushing away from him, quickly sitting up-right and glaring hard at him. " _You_ don't get it Mulder; I _am_ home!" She was getting angry at him now.

They'd had this conversation many times in the first few weeks of their abscondment, and several more since. At first, she had greeted his suggestions of her returning home with a polite rebuff, while letting him know she appreciated the sentiment. However, when he had refused to let the matter drop, she had become half convinced that he didn't want her around, that he was furious at her for giving up their son, but once he had reassured her that wasn't the case at all, and it was just his ham-fisted way of trying to protect her from all the evils of the world as he always had, she had been relieved. It hadn't lasted long though, as he had persisted with his attempts in sending her away.

Surprised at her outburst, he found his earlier lassitude gone and sat up too. He nearly made to reach out to regain some kind of contact with her, but one glance at her face and he knew any attempt to touch her right now would not be welcomed. Licking his dry lips he proceeded to explain his point once more.

"This isn't a home, Scully." His eyes pleaded with her to see what it was he had failed, thus far, to impress upon her. He knew! He had lived this kind of life; it wasn't truly living. And at its worst, it could fast become completely soul crushing, trapping you in a hopeless existence that was a pale imitation of life. "This-" and he gestured to their surroundings, "at best, it's a temporary accommodation offering minimal comfort. Just one of many such places we'll be forced to stay in for the foreseeable future."

The defiance in her posture informed him his entreaties had fallen on deaf ears. He loved her desperately – devastatingly - and having her with him this time surely dispelled the awful loneliness that had plagued him every day he had spent without her for all those months of his former self-imposed banishment. But that was all the more reason for having this argument with her again. After all, what type of person would it make him if he didn't at least try to save her from this, just for the sake of his not being alone in this new, necessary exile?

"I don't care where we live," she told him. "We could be in a windowless shack in the middle of the most inhospitable place on the planet and I still wouldn't abandon you!" Scully was adamant, there was no way she was backing down on this. She had already experienced the despair of losing him when he was taken; doubly so when all that had remained of him to be returned to her was his corpse and she thought she would never be with him again in this life. And then, insult on top of injury, after his difficult transition to being restored of both body and mind, she had had to ask him to leave, just as they thought maybe they might have something approaching a normal life together, raising their son. The world would go to hell before she willing put either of them through that again.

She could see Mulder had become somewhat deflated at her declaration, physically caving as he slumped in on himself, knowing that he had failed, but still couldn't let it go so easily. "You say that now," he huffed, "but it might actually become a reality if we think they're not giving up on chasing me down."

"Chasing us, Mulder, _us_. And I don't care." She was wondering what it could possibly take for him to listen to her, what she could say. She licked her lips, frustrated at this stalemate; she wanted so badly to touch him, but she wouldn't, not while they still argued this point, she knew it might be seen as capitulation. "What I do care about… the _only_ thing that matters to me now, is that we're together."

"But at what cost?" Mulder was clearly miserable, and in a last ditch attempt tried playing those big hazel puppy dog eyes at her.

Usually, Scully found it incredibly difficult to stand up to him when he resorted to this tactic, but then again Mulder was usually smart enough only to use this trick on her when he wanted to sway her on inconsequential matters, like which of their favourite places to order dinner from, or persuading her to neglect their administrative obligations at work and come home early with him so they could get naked. That he was using it now over something so serious just made her mad and therefore had the opposite effect on her; she dug her heels in and refused to budge.

"So, what?" she asked him, eyes mere slits and no hint of a smile, he knew he'd gone too far and pissed her off. Her voice was soft and quiet when she spoke again, a convincing mask for her anger to anyone else, but not him. "You'd have me leave? Go back to DC with my tail between my legs, so I can do what? Get my job back with the Bureau? Pay obeisance and play nice with the people who are responsible for ruining our lives, hoping they'll be benevolent. And if they are? Then what? Would you have me spend the rest of my life alone, always wondering if I'll ever see you again? Never knowing if you're still out there somewhere. If you've found somewhere safe to hide or if they've caught you. If you're even still alive. Well I won't do it; not again!" She spun away, sitting with her back to him and both her legs over the side of the bed, her fingers bunching the sheets tightly within her fists. The volume level had been impressive when she finally ran down. And the venom, never heard before in her voice, scared him.

Mulder had known she was supremely angry at their situation, at the government and military's persecution of him and the trashing of all the work they had done over the years. She was livid because the actions taken by these people – the very people who were supposedly in charge of looking out for the public's welfare - had made them unsafe for anyone who dared any kind of association with them. This was a fury that belonged to both of them and occupied the place where the delight at watching their absent son grow up should have lived. But never during the time they had been running, had he heard Scully vocalize this pain as vehemently as she did now.

She was so worked up Mulder could see she had gritted her teeth and was panting lightly, trying her damnedest to exert her usual control. He didn't know if he wanted to encourage her, push her to let out the rest of what she was bottling up inside herself – if nothing else, it would surely have given her some relief at not having to hold it back – or go to her and offer what comfort he could. He opted for comforting her.

Mulder scooted over until he was sat facing her side on. Careful not to crush her, he positioned his left arm and leg behind her back while his right circled over her legs and around her front, completely encompassing her upper body in the space between, creating her own personal cocoon, insulating her from the rest of the world. Scully remained stiff in his embrace for a few moments, still not accustomed to relinquishing some of the care of her emotional well-being to him. She did try though and she _was_ learning. Gradually she released the balled up material within her fists, then let the tension in her rigid muscles slacken until she could lean into him, her hands came up to curl around the arm slung across her chest. Her acceptance gave Mulder some much needed confidence that he was giving her what she needed; that this was what they both needed, and he kissed her temple. For several minutes they sat like this as he held her.

When they both felt a sense of calm had been restored, Scully pulled his head down and pressed her lips lightly to his (by now, Mulder had learned to recognise many of her physical cues and instinctively knew this kiss was not an invitation to engage in amorous behaviour; it was simply an acknowledgement of what had passed between them), then she his patted his arm, signalling that she wanted to be released from the knot of their limbs.

Despite the heat, they still felt the need to be close; they both craved the security that only comes from direct skin to skin contact and so they settled back together on the pillows piled against the headboard as they were before. Mulder waited a moment until he thought it was safe to speak again. "I wasn't trying to upset up you, Scully. I hope you know that?" She nodded, but stayed silent. "It's just… the thing that matters to _me_ most right now, is what's best for you."

She pulled his body even closer so her reply wouldn't seem too harsh. "Don't you think _I'm_ the one who should decide what's best for me?"

"Of course I. do," he answered immediately and kissed the top of her head, then added, "I just want you to be happy, Scully."

"Then stop trying to send me away!" She swatted his arm as she said this; not painfully, but hard enough to get his attention. The small grunt he made let her know the message had been received, so she carried on, soothing the stinging skin she'd assaulted with a gentle caress. " _You_ make me happy, Mulder! Well, at least you do when you're not being the most stubborn, obstinate, pig-head fool I've ever met."

And with those words, Mulder chuckled in genuine good humour for the first time in days. "I've never known anyone who can say 'I love you' quite like you do, Scully," he murmured into her hair in that gravelly voice she knew so well.

The sudden transformation in his outlook to something lighter and decidedly playful was infectious, making her smile, too. "Yeah, well, you have a way of bringing that out in me," she said in mock disapproval. Then she pulled back so she could look him in the eye and told him in all seriousness, "I do, you know – love you." Mulder's happy face on those rare occasions when she actually spoke these words of affirmation was one of the few things that made this whole situation tolerable to her. She made a mental note to say it more often.

Caught up in the moment, Mulder predictably reciprocated in a most theatrical fashion. "And your presence in my life makes my continued existence not just bearable, but possible at all!" He smothered Scully's mirthful chortles with open mouth kisses as his body pressed hers back into the soft embrace of the mattress. By the time he let her up for air her throat and chest (the little he could see that wasn't obscured by his stolen t-shirt) were flushed a very attractive pinkish colour – her Irish heritage doing nothing to hide her condition - and from those telling noises she tried to suppress (God, those sounds issuing from her – that he could make Scully sound like that - made him light headed and weak at the knees), he knew he'd made her start to tingle in all the right places.

She was still giggling sporadically as she rearranged the pillows to prop herself back up again. Just when she had stacked them to her liking, without warning, he darted back at her to attack her neck with his very talented lips, making her shriek in surprise. "Mulder!" She admonished without any real verve – her continued laughing spoilt her efforts at telling him off - and pushed his face away, not minding at all if he decided to do it again. "God! You're so dramatic sometimes!"

"I guess you have a way of bringing that out in me." He echoed her words back at her with the addition of a dopey grin that was all his.

"Uh huh," she huffed, blowing at the hair that had fallen over her face.

"It's true!" He insisted emphatically, helping to remove the hair from her eyes and then tenderly cupped her cheek. "But seriously," he said, studying her features. "Our relationship is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Scully contemplated this complex man who held her, the wonder she felt lying in the protective circle of his arms. She was amazed that after all his life had thrown at him he still had the ability and the capacity to care so deeply; she felt truly blessed that she was the one he had chosen to share his life with. She reached up to touch his chin, her fingers tracing his strong jaw. With the pad of one digit, she drew a line down his unique nose and then pressed it to his lips. "Me too," she answered simply. Mulder kissed the tip of her finger and smiled back at her.

Scully bent over him to kiss the spot directly over his heart, then turned her head so she could press her ear to the same place, and closed her eyes so she could concentrate exclusively on the measured pace of the gentle thudding that told her better than anything else could that he was alive, his body strong and virile. Stroking the skin covering his ribs she could feel the difference in his frame, noted how his figure was slimmer now compared to how he had been before that fateful trip to Oregon. Even still, it was a damn sight better than the scar ravaged shell he had been when they had taken him out of his coffin. She would never tell him, but she still had nightmares about waking up to find him lying next to her in that condition.

Mulder hummed in appreciation at her ministrations and let his own hands wander over her exquisite form until one big hand was holding the leg she had draped across him as she got comfy and the other had found the warm skin of her hip under the elastic waistband of her shorts. "I just wish I could make it more… official."

The lull in the conversation had been long enough for Scully to fall into a sleepy trance. She wasn't paying attention to anything much anymore and had lost track of what they had been talking about. "Huh?"

Mulder was surprised by her question, unaware that he had said anything. "Oh, I was just, you know thinking out loud," he replied. "I was thinking about how it would be nice to make things official."

"Official?" He could feel it when she furrowed her brow against his bare chest, and experienced a moment of doubt. "What do you mean? Us?"

"Hmm." He tried to make the sound as nonchalant as he could so she wouldn't be able to tell that his initial doubt had morphed into panic.

"Mulder, we already live together and we… we have a child." He couldn't read her, not like this. Did she think it was stupid? Did she not want to be tied to him in that way?

"Yeah, I know," he agreed, "and that is everything to me."

"Me too, so what more do you want?" She had asked so innocently; an honest inquiry asked without prejudice and receptive to listening to whatever he would tell her. It was enough to lessen his insecurities and put him back at ease.

He inhaled deeply, held the breath a few seconds and slowly released it. "Sometimes I feel like there should be some kind of… I don't know… _thing_ … that should be obvious to everybody else about how I feel about you."

"A ' _thing'_?" She pressed him.

"Yeah, a symbol…"

"Symbol? You mean like a ring?" Scully slowly pushed herself up; her eyebrows were halfway to her hairline when he looked at her. He remained still and said nothing. "Mulder, is this your round-about way of asking me to marry you?!"

"Maybe…" he conceded self-consciously.

"Mulder, you don't subscribe to the doctrines of any organised religion, and you certainly don't care for the opinions of our government when it comes to the personal relationship between two consenting adults."

"True." She looked more confused than anything else. It wasn't the greatest endorsement he could have hoped for, but then it wasn't a resounding 'no' either.

"So what gives? Why is marriage suddenly on your mind now?"

"It's not such a recent development, not really."

"Well, how long have you been considering it?"

Straight away, Mulder wanted to say, 'about nine years?'"A while," he answered instead.

"How long is a while?" She deliberately fluttered her lashes at him and there was a coy little smile on her face; Scully was definitely having some fun at his expense now, but he didn't mind. There was no way he would pass up the chance for them to have a bit of a laugh together. Even if he was the butt of the joke.

He was instantly reminded of the first time he had asked her to marry him. Since she had been calling him for help on a case she had unwittingly stumbled across while she had been on a well-deserved and extremely long overdue vacation, she had not been overly impressed. Nor had she been particularly moved the first time he told her he loved her, but then again, he had been lying in a hospital bed attached to an IV full of drugs during that instance. Sometimes his timing really sucked. "Hmm, I think the first time it dawned on me to ask you was when you suffered that partial abruption while you were pregnant."

"Really?" This seemed to be quite the surprise to her - Mulder supposed that would make sense, seeing how he had never mentioned it before now. "Why?"

"The admitting nurse," he recalled.

"I'm sorry?" She was frowning at him now, obviously very confused.

He smiled at her and explained. "When you were brought in - you probably don't have a clear recollection considering how much pain you were in at the time – the nurse in charge made it perfectly clear that nobody but 'the husband' was going to be allowed in to see you."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Then she went and asked Doggett if it was him. I was not happy."

"I can imagine." She smiled to herself, picturing a very upset Mulder menacing exasperated hospital staff and demanding answers before they would have had a chance to examine her.

"You could have lied, you know. I wouldn't have minded if it meant you got to know what was going on."

"You wouldn't?"

"No, of course not; I was carrying _your_ baby after all."

"Well, unfortunately, I didn't really have all my wits about me at the time, and once I said 'no' there wasn't any taking it back. And I didn't feel like I had the right to make any claim on either of you."

Their room was silent, but for the quiet whirl of the fan in the corner as Scully thought on this. She vaguely remembered how nearly every time she opened her eyes she found him holding his anxious vigil at her bedside and how he kept getting kicked out; how on one particular visit he had finally found the courage to tentatively reach out and touch her pregnant belly for the first time. It wasn't until that moment she had let herself believe that they might just be able to make a life together after all. She shrugged off the bittersweet memory and returned to the present. "So… why didn't you ask me once I was out of the hospital?"

"Honestly? I wasn't sure how well any kind of proposal would have been received at that time. I still hadn't completely readjusted to being back. I mean, _would_ you have considered it?" Her slight hesitation was all the answer he needed to know the truth. "It's okay. If I _had_ asked and you had said yes, I would have always wondered if it was for the right reasons. I know how worried you were about me. I didn't make it very easy for you."

"It wasn't an easy time for either of us. Expecting everything to go back to how it was before you were taken would have been foolish. We both changed so much and we _both_ needed time to readjust."

"You'll never know how thankful I am that I got a second chance to be with you, Scully. No matter what our circumstances are right now. To think I risked pushing you away after everything we went through to get to that place the first time, God, I truly was an idiot."

She shook her head against him and held him tighter. "No, Mulder."

He ignored her quiet protest and continued. "It took the reality of you landing in hospital and realising you could actually lose the baby for me to finally understand where it was I fit in, where it was I wanted to be, though I couldn't articulate that revelation. Luckily for me, it wasn't too late."

Scully pressed her face into his warm body and kissed his chest tenderly, over his strong heartbeat. Sometimes it hurt just how much she loved this man. "You really want to get married, Mulder?"

"You were right - about my opinion of a higher power - be it the government or God - being less than favourable, but you shouldn't think that means that reflects on my faith in us. You are _it_ for me, Scully. I think my fate was sealed the moment you walked into my office, in that _awful_ blazer—"

"Hey!"

"—all those years ago!"

She pushed at him playfully, but she couldn't argue with his assessment; it really wasn't one of her best clothing purchases. Scully harrumphed in mock indignation, but let him continue without further protestation.

"I could never imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone but you. After witnessing the train wreck that was my parents' marriage – especially once Samantha was gone – and then going through the same thing in my relationship with… with Diana and our divorce, well, I figured I was better off washing my hands of the whole institution, and I gave up on the idea of having a family of my own. I could live without that kind of heartache again."

"I'm sorry, Mulder," she whispered.

"No, it's all right. If I hadn't learned from my past, I wouldn't know what is really worth investing in now. Scully, I don't need the validation of any religious establishment or permission from Big Brother to know what it is I feel for you. But I'm also not insensitive to how important reconnecting with your faith has been, and still is, to you. And I'm not ignorant to the fact that what your faith is telling you is that by living with me, as we are, we're committing a sin against God. So, if you've decided – contrary to all good common sense, by the way - that being with me is what you want, at the expense of everything else you hold dear, then I will do everything I can to make sure you don't come to regret making that choice."

His declaration almost left her speechless and she needed to swallow twice before she could get any response past her throat. "You would do that? You'd marry me even though it's not something you truly believe in?"

"Don't misunderstand me Scully; it's only the religious connotations I have my doubts about – the obligations the church places on you perpetuate its convictions, defining what should be the sole province of the couple entering into that scared compact, by its own standards. You could grab a scalpel and carve your name on my chest and it would have more meaning to me!"

He had seen the way she had teared up and wanted to lighten the atmosphere just a bit, and that last comment did the trick. She even laughed a little as she said, "what? And damage this wonderful body?" Slowly, she ran her fingers appreciatively down him, from sternum to below his navel, making him twitch. "Now, that would be sacrilegious!" He knew she was also speaking to what had been done to him during his abduction, when her touch traced one of the very faint scars he had been left with as a testament to what he'd been through.

It was still much too painful for him to talk causally about the abuse he'd suffered, but he was thankful to her for the sentiment. "The commitment part has never been a problem for me. When I think of what marriage means to me, I subscribe to the theory that it's more about standing up with the person you love and want to spend the rest of your days with, in front of those other people who are important to you and asking them to bear witness while you commit yourself to that person, asking them to hold you both accountable to the promises you're making. So in that sense, yes Scully, I want to marry you. Very much so."

"Mulder," she pushed herself up until she could look at his face without straining her neck. "That was really beautiful. In an ideal world, I think we'd all benefit from looking at it that way." Her hand came up and stroked his cheek as she softly kissed his lips. "I think you've managed to capture the spirit of it perfectly. And I agree with you completely, because I believe that's what we've already done, the night we ran; we committed ourselves to each other. So now, let me ease your mind a little if I can. Mulder, I'm _good_ with what we have. I don't need the consent of my church or a blessing from a priest to know how right it feels to be with you; I trust what's in my heart and neither the lack of jewellery nor an official piece of paper will ever convince me otherwise." She kissed him again and let her forehead rest against his. "Okay?"

Mulder nodded and kissed her back. "Yeah, Scully, okay."

For a few minutes they stayed this way, their bodies wrapped around each other, happy that they both knew exactly where they stood with one another. Then, once more, just when Scully thought she might fall asleep, feeling more content than she had been in a while, Mulder's rumbling voice jostled her out of her doze.

"Though I suppose, if you wanted, we could fix the lack of jewellery thing."

She snickered at this. "I do understand the impulse, but you needn't buy me a ring Mulder," she assured him.

He wanted to tell her he still had his maternal grandmother's engagement ring in a safe deposit box with the rest of the inheritance that she had left him. His grandmother had been the only reliable source of parental guidance and comfort to him, the only one who made it plain that she had never blamed him for Samantha's disappearance. Worried that his own parents would disown him, she had willed everything to him after she died when he was fifteen. Her decision had been meant to protect him, but her good intentions hadn't sat well with his mother; the implication was abundantly clear, and gave Teena Mulder one more reason to resent her son.

One day, when they were once again free to live their lives as they saw fit, he was going to retrieve that engagement ring and present it to Scully – whether or not it came with another proposal - and make sure his grandmother's money was held in safe keeping for their son, just in case the day ever came when he needed it.

As far as plans for the future went, it was rather threadbare, but when they had been left with nothing, small steps like this were better than nothing and gave him the feeling that at some point, he might have some kind of say over what his life would become.

"I know, I know." He resigned himself to the possibility that he would never get the chance to do these things, so instead decided to be thankful for what he did have. "I just like the idea is all," he sighed.

Scully hummed in agreement and it vibrated through his body, too. "Though, it would be nice if we could do something - just for us, you know? Something to mark the moment in recognition of what we've promised ourselves."

Mulder was cheered at the idea. "That is definitely something I'd like to do."

"Well, let's give it some thought—" Before she could finish what she was saying, he none to gently bolted upright and sprang out of the bed, nearly sending her tumbling in the process. "Mulder! What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Bear with me Scully; I've just had thought." He held his hands up in a placating manner walking backwards towards the door then practically skipped out into the short hallway leading to the rest of their small apartment, leaving her to grumble under her breath. She could hear him moving about in the kitchen. His hurried footsteps soon heralded his reappearance at the threshold of the bedroom. "It's not perfect, but it'll have to do on short notice," he announced, clearly very pleased with himself.

Scully remained perfectly still, sitting in the midst of the rumpled sheets on the middle of the bed staring incredulously at him, and obviously stumped at his abrupt and excited antics. She arched one delicate eyebrow in his direction. "Mulder, it's a brush; just what exactly do you intend to do with it?"

If it had been anyone other than him, they wouldn't have caught the tiniest of twitches at the corner of her mouth that betrayed her amusement. "Come over here and I'll show you," he instructed as he set his prize down on the floor while launching into professor mode. "It's a tradition that goes back centuries, to the Romani in Wales who practiced it as a way to keep evil spirits out of their marital unions, to slave couples here, who weren't allowed to be married by the government, but who wanted a way to declare their commitment to each other in front of their loved ones-"

"Wait." Mulder looked up at her, still bent at the waist as he arranged the brush to his liking. She crawled to the foot of the bed on her knees. "You mean you want to jump the broomstick?!"

"Well, it was either this or use the belt from your robe for a 'hand-fastening'. But then I'd have been tempted to tie you to the bed!"

"Mulder!" She laughed. He didn't even have the decency to look sheepish.

"So…?" He stood before her expectantly, his face alive and completely open and she was suddenly struck by the memory of every time he had become so excited as he proffered up a new case, when he was totally caught up in one of his wild theories, or the thrill of the chase. It gave her such joy to see this old Mulder surface, knowing that this was something that they hadn't managed to take from him.

That joy must have shone through on her own face, because he tilted his head and gave her one of those toothy, quirky smiles. He pulled himself upright, standing proud at his full height. There was a definite swagger in his step as he closed the short distance between them and a possessiveness she would have resented if anyone else had dared grab her hips the way he did right then, yanking her closer so she was flush against him. Scully ran the tips of her fingernails provocatively up the bare skin of his arms, over his well-defined shoulders, then tugged at his neck, pulling him down towards her until she could reach his mouth with her own. A brief but passionate kiss succeeded in wiping the smile off his face, leaving nothing but pure desire for her in its place. She let out a shaky breath, then leaning close enough to one ear so her lips brushed at his sensitized skin as she whispered, "I always knew you were a pagan at heart."

He gave her neck a playful nip. "Dana Scully, you're such a tease; who would ever have guessed?" He chuckled as she wriggled against him. "Does that mean you'll consent to participate in this little ritual?" She dragged her bottom lip through her teeth, relishing the hungry way his eyes tracked her movements. She nodded and he reverted to the model of a perfect gentleman, assisting her down from the bed and positioning them facing each other on one side of the brush lying on the floor. "Okay?"

"I feel ridiculous," she admitted looking up at him shyly, "I'm in my pyjamas and you're wearing nothing but your underwear!"

He shrugged, like what they were doing was entirely normal. "You said you wanted to mark the occasion; this sounds like it'll be a moment neither of us will ever be able forget!"

"Mulder!" She laughed again at their silliness, her hands going to his slim waist and leaned her head on his chest. He stroked one hand through her hair and rubbed her back with the other. "Okay, okay; let's do this," she said straightening up again. "Honestly, the things I let you talk me into."

He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, and then reached out to her. "Here, hold my hands." She smiled brightly and accepted. "You ready?" he asked, sporting a grin of his own.

She nodded once. "Yes. No, wait! Shouldn't we say something?"

"Like what?"

She opened her mouth and raised her shoulders, searching for the right words. Then, looking into his eyes, it became immediately obvious. "For better, for worse..."

He nodded and finished, "…'til death do us part."

Their hands instinctively tightened around each other. And they jumped.

For a second they were both completely silent then simultaneously burst into fits of laughter. It was loud and gleeful and shook their bodies so hard they had to clutch each other to keep themselves upright. After a minute or so they began to wind down, their arms wrapping one another in a loose embrace as they rocked gently back and forth.

Mulder straightened a little and brought his hands up to frame her face. "So, do I get to kiss the bride now?"

Smiling widely, Scully nodded and pulled him down, kissing him with great enthusiasm. When she finally released him, she was beaming; evidently extremely proud of herself at the stupefied expression she'd left him wearing. "I can't believe we just did that!" She laughed again, touching his face. "You know what? I just realised I have a crazy husband!"

Well, he couldn't argue with her there – though she _had_ agreed to do this too, but he wasn't about to shoot himself in the foot by voicing that thought out loud. "And I have an incredibly forgiving, smart, gorgeous wife." He punctuated each point with a kiss; one on each cheek and the last on her smiling lips.

"Flatterer," she accused.

"Always," he conceded happily.

Humming softly, Scully let her head tilt back and closed her eyes as she reached up to lace her fingers together at the back of his neck. She felt his hands sneak around her waist and link, resting on her tailbone as he held her and set their bodies to swaying. They spent a minute or so like this until she stilled their gentle motion.

All the while, he had been watching her peaceful expression with great interest, so he caught the instant the small, serene smile she had been sporting transformed into wicked grin. Not knowing what had prompted this sudden change, he felt an overwhelming sense of anticipation grip him, and goosebumps erupted over every inch of his skin. Scully opened her eyes and for a second there was a predatory flash in their blue depths; it was enough to set his pulse racing. She watched raptly as she trailed one hand down his chest, halting once it encountered his shorts. The only thing that ruined her adopted pose of pure innocence was the finger that had slipped under the elastic band, which was currently sending the most delightful tremors of pleasure through him. She glanced back up at him under her lashes and inquired in a voice so soft he had to move in even closer just to hear her.

"So, Mulder, what are we going to do about a honeymoon?"

The end.

Thanks for reading! If you have a spare minute please leave feedback and let me know what you thought. :D


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